


summer days

by soldmyscars



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7215589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldmyscars/pseuds/soldmyscars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>summer fluffin', had me a blast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	summer days

**Author's Note:**

> alternative summary: the one where mickey is dick whipped. (not literally.)
> 
> this fic has nothing to do with the movie grease, just so you know. it's mostly boring, plotless fluff. that's right, i came back from the writing grave with nothing but fluff. are you surprised? i'm not.

To Mickey, the public pool sounded like a fucking miserable place. He didn't like being in the hot sun, he didn't like being in close proximity to so many sweaty, half naked people, and he didn't even like to fucking swim.

So when Ian dragged him out there on the first hot day of summer, he was understandably grumpy. He _had no desire to go,_ which he'd told Ian several times, but the asshole just kept pestering. And then he'd pulled out the big guns, those goddamn puppy eyes, and Mickey had finally thrown up his hands and shouted, "Fine! We'll fucking go to the pool, aight?! Quit fuckin' lookin' at me like that!"

And that had been that.

He was such a fucking pushover.

"This is nice, isn't it, Mick?" Ian asked, leaning up on his elbow and turning towards him. He gave Mickey a sunny smile. 

They both had towels laid out on the small grassy area beside the pool. Mickey was lying on his back, trying to ignore everything - Ian, the sounds of kids shrieking and screaming in the pool, and the heat, which was already starting to make him feel like he was melting. They'd picked a spot that was shaded, according to Ian, but that tiny fucking tree wasn't shading anything.

"No," he grumbled, pulling his ball cap down further so it covered his eyes.

"Aww," Ian said. He patted Mickey's stomach in what he probably thought was a soothing way. Mickey swatted at him until he stopped. "You know if you actually took your shirt off, you'd be a lot cooler."

"And turn into a fuckin' lobster like you will? Yeah, no thanks."

Ian gave him an exasperated look. Or Mickey guessed he did. He couldn't actually see Ian. "That's what sunblock is for, Mickey." Ian pulled on his hand. "C'mon, I'll help you put it on."

"Can't you just leave me the hell alone?" Mickey whined, but he let Ian pull him up.

"Nope, sorry," Ian said, sounding not very sorry at all. "Take it off."

Mickey made a big show of sighing and grumbling as he peeled his t-shirt off. It was damp with his sweat. He tossed it in the grass. "There. You happy now?"

"I'm already happy. You're the one who needs to lighten up. Quit pouting." Ian uncapped the sunblock and squeezed some onto his hand. 

Mickey could see his reflection in Ian's sunglasses. "I'm not fucking pouting," he said.

Ian snorted and leaned over, slapping his coated white hands onto Mickey's chest. Mickey flinched in surprise - it was fucking _cold_ \- but as Ian started working it into his skin it started to warm up and actually feel good, like a massage. Mickey relaxed, and Ian let out a pleased hum and continued rubbing him down, doing his stomach and chest, and then his shoulders, biceps, and all the way down to his hands.

Mickey opened his eyes, not sure when he'd closed them, and was met with Ian's smug expression. Ian made a turning motion with his finger. "Other side, hot stuff."

"Bite me," Mickey grumped, his already flushed skin flushing a little more, but he did as told.

"Maybe after that's soaked in," Ian replied, a smirk in his voice. 

He didn't give Mickey any time to retort, placing two cold hands on Mickey's shoulder blades. Mickey jumped a little again, cursing. "Sensitive," Ian murmured. 

It was unfair, really, how good Ian was with his hands. The pressure he used, firm enough to make Mickey sway forward slightly. Rubbing in slow circles, kneading his hips and lower back. Mickey shifted on his towel, and when Ian finally stopped, rolled onto his stomach, fast enough that Ian raised an eyebrow.

"Better?" he asked, knowingly.

Mickey glared at him and then buried his face in his crossed arms. "Shut up, Gallagher."

*

An hour later, Mickey woke up to the feeling of Ian stroking his hair. Somehow he'd fallen asleep on his towel - or maybe he passed the fuck out because it was so fuckin' hot. Mickey's gaze traveled upwards to find his boyfriend tilting his head up towards the sky with a blissed out smile. Mickey closed his eyes again, too relaxed to complain about anything. Ian continued to pet him.

*

The next time he woke up, Ian was rummaging through the cooler behind them. Mickey yawned as he sat up and pushed his knuckles against his eyes, wiping the crust away.

"Hey," Ian said, turning from the cooler and setting a few things down between them. He moved to cup Mickey's cheek and Mickey let him, still fuzzy with sleep. "You've been out a while. Gettin' a little warm, I think we should put some more sunscreen on you."

Mickey sniffed, snatching the tube before Ian could. "Yeah, I'll do it."

Ian dropped his hand. Mickey slathered on the sunscreen, which felt cold and goopy, and completely unsexy unlike when Ian was doing it. "Don't forget your face," Ian reminded him, and Mickey grunted, rubbing some on his cheeks and nose. When he was done Ian had a cold beer and a sandwich wrapped in cellophane waiting for him. Mickey's stomach growled. 

"Lunch," Ian told him, unnecessarily. "Nothin' fancy. Just PB and J. It was all we had."

"I fuckin' love peanut butter," Mickey said, tearing into it.

Ian smiled. "There's another one if you're still hungry later."

Mickey popped the tab on the beer and took a swig. "Thanks, man." It was gruff, but he knew Ian appreciated it by the way his eyes warmed.

*

After they finished eating, Ian brushed off his hands and stood up. "Well, you ready to go for a dip?"

Mickey squinted at him and shook his head. "Nah, you go ahead."

Ian stopped and stared at him. "You're not gonna swim?"

"Nope." He'd never learned, and he didn't plan on changing that. He'd leave swimming to the fishes, and people like Ian, who actually liked the water.

"Why not?" Ian was starting to sound a little pissed, and Mickey rolled his eyes.

"Because I don't fucking want to, would you leave it alone?"

"Fine. I'll go by myself." 

Mickey shook his head as Ian dropped his sunglasses on his towel and left. "Drama queen." He lit a cigarette, ignoring the disapproving look of a middle aged woman sitting with a gaggle of kids. Mickey blew the smoke away from their direction and watched as Ian headed to the pool. He went to the deep end and, after approaching the edge, dived in. Mickey's heart thumped a little harder until Ian resurfaced halfway across the pool, water making his hair slick and shiny, mouth parting as he took a deep breath. Mickey took a deep breath of his own, cigarette getting squished between his fingers. Fuck, just watching it made him anxious.

Ian swam over to the far side of the wall and turned, stretching his arms out along the edge. His gaze roamed over the sea of colorful towels and lounge chairs until he found Mickey. _Come here,_ he mouthed.

He was _not_ getting into that water. Ian just had to fucking get over it.

Mickey shook his head.

Ian's jaw hardened, chin jutting out. 

Mickey huffed. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered, dropping his cigarette into his empty beer can and getting up. He walked over, stopping when he reached the side of the pool where Ian was waiting.

"The water's great," Ian said. He grabbed Mickey's ankle. "Get in here with me."

Mickey looked down at the water, pulse suddenly thrumming. He swallowed. 

He must have been silent for too long, because Ian let go of him. "At least put your feet in. Cool off a bit."

"Fuckin' alright already," Mickey said, snapping a little. He sat down carefully, letting his feet dangle. The water came up to his knees. He shivered a little, but got distracted by the weightless feeling. He kicked his foot, and it happened in slow motion. Ian was watching him when he looked up, so Mickey kicked harder, splashing him in the face.

"Hey!" Ian shouted, laughing. He spluttered a little and then shook his head like a wet dog. 

Mickey smirked, curling his hands around the edge and leaning forward slightly.

Ian glared at him in mock anger, which morphed into a wicked smile. Instead of splashing Mickey back, he dropped down into the water. Mickey looked down and saw Ian coming towards him, water rippling around him. Ian came up between his legs and rested his hands on Mickey's thighs. "Hi," he said, surging up and kissing Mickey. 

It only lasted for a second, but it knocked Mickey's hat askew and made his heart beat double time. His hands covered Ian's, feeling slightly off balance and not wanting to fall in. "Uh," he said stupidly.

"Thanks for coming with me today," Ian replied. His expression was open and happy once again, and Mickey's reminder that he hadn't came willingly dried up in his throat.

"Glad you're havin' fun," he muttered. He was surprised that he actually meant the words.

"You know how I would have even more fun?" Ian asked.

Mickey eyed him. "How," he said wearily.

"If you came in the water with me."

Mickey sighed, lowering his gaze. Of course. "Look, I can't. I don't even know how to fucking swim." The admittance was embarrassing, but Ian just shrugged.

"That's okay, just hang on to the edge, or we'll go to the shallower end." Ian made it sound so simple.

Mickey bit his lip and worried it between his teeth. 

"Besides, I'm a certified lifeguard." There was cockiness in Ian's voice. "You're safe with me."

Good god, what a dork. "I'm not some fucking damsel. But fine, I'll come in. If it'll make you finally get off my ass."

Ian pressed his lips together like he was trying not to say something, the sassy little shit, so Mickey gave him a warning look. Ian didn't react to it, which was unsurprising since he never reacted to Mickey's threats.

Mickey took a deep breath and looked at the water. Ian was watching him, so instead of being a pussy, Mickey pushed forward and let himself drop into the pool. The cold was a shock and it immediately felt like he was going to sink, but Ian's arm was already around his waist before he could completely panic, keeping him from being pulled underwater. "I got you," Ian said calmly. "Wrap your arms around me." 

Mickey was breathing hard. He didn't hesitate, arms finding Ian's neck and locking around it. His legs followed, wrapping themselves around Ian's waist, which was easy to do since it seemed like he weighed practically nothing right now. A distant part of his mind told him he _was_ acting like a fucking damsel, but the rest of it was too distracted by _not drowning_ to care. 

"Look at me."

Mickey opened his eyes, blinking away the blurriness. Ian was close, boxing him in. The water lapped at the napes of their necks. Mickey's back was pressed against the solid pool wall. He relaxed a little. "You look like a wet rat," he said, touching his forehead to Ian's. It made the bill of his cap bump up, but also sort of shielded their faces from anyone else.

Ian chuckled. "Thanks." He adjusted his grip on the edge, relaxing his grip around Mickey too once it was clear Mickey was done freaking out, moving so his forearm was under Mickey's ass instead, and distracted him with a kiss that made Mickey relax even more, Ian's lips warm and reassuring on his.

"You can let go of me now," Mickey said when they parted. Despite his words, he didn't do anything to disentangle himself from Ian.

"I know," Ian said. 

*

They stayed in the water for another twenty minutes. Long enough for Mickey to make it to the shallow end on his own, inching along the wall. Ian even got him to float on his back like a starfish for a minute, but Mickey smacked him with a pool noodle when he tried to get him to go into one of those blow up donuts. Ian just laughed and grabbed another noodle to duel with him, because he was a complete fucking nerd. 

*

An hour later, they had their stuff packed up and were on their way home, towels slung around their necks. Mickey's swimming trunks were still damp and clinging uncomfortably to his legs, but the sun was starting to go down and there was a slight breeze that felt nice against his face. Even with all the sunscreen, he was pretty sure he burnt.

Ian swung the empty cooler between them like a little kid as they walked, glancing at Mickey every now and then. "We should get ice cream," he said. "Do you want an ice cream?"

Mickey looked at the cart parked down the sidewalk that Ian was referring to, and then raised his eyebrows. "You buyin'?"

He expected Ian to tease him or call him cheap, but instead he just nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay."

Ian smiled fondly at him.

Mickey twisted the end of his towel and looked down at his feet, fighting a smile of his own.

After waiting in line, they both got a cone. Ian got vanilla, and Mickey got rainbow sherbet, which seemed to really fucking amuse Ian for some reason. "Fuck off, this is delicious," Mickey said, licking a stripe up the colorful mound.

"I believe you," Ian said, still grinning, like he was laughing at his own private joke.

Mickey shrugged and licked his cone again. "Weirdo."

"Let me have a taste."

"What? No!"

Mickey moved out of Ian's way when he tried to reach for it.

"Come on, you won't share?"

"It's not my fault you picked the boringest fucking flavor in the world," Mickey said, holding his ice cream close to his chest. "Who the fuck chooses _vanilla?_ "

Ian sighed. "Boringest isn't a word, Mick."

"It is if I say it is. The fuck are you anyway, my teacher?"

Ian smirked. "Sure. Will you call me Professor Gallagher?"

Mickey glanced at him, the corner of his mouth lifting. "No."

"There's one fantasy gone," Ian said. His gaze fell to Mickey's cone, before rising to Mickey again hopefully.

"Stop that," Mickey said.

Ian stepped closer. "Just a bite."

Mickey looked at his cone, and then up to Ian's pleading eyes. He could just stuff the rest of it in his mouth - it was almost gone anyway. He extended it towards Ian. "You're a manipulative asshole, y'know that."

"I know." Ian leaned over and closed his mouth over the edge of Mickey's cone, teeth sinking in and breaking a piece off. It shouldn't have been sexy, and it wasn't really until Ian swallowed and licked his lips, and then licked Mickey's knuckles, where some of the ice cream had melted and dripped down. He straightened up. "Thanks, babe."

Mickey's stomach flipped. "Told you not to call me that."

Ian grinned. "But baaaabe."

Mickey flipped him off.

They finished the rest of their cones. Mickey's fingers were sticky so he sucked them off, fully aware that Ian was watching him the whole time. "I know what you're thinking, but if anyone deserves to get sucked off tonight, it's me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ian chuckled. "Okay, Mick."


End file.
